


Where It Hurts

by lauawill



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 04:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauawill/pseuds/lauawill
Summary: So there was a thing going around on Tumblr. One of those big list things, and this one was "Send Me a Ship and a Number and I Will Write a Kiss." I sort of reblogged it by mistake, but since a few people tagged me I decided to give it a whirl. The first one I got was Number 4: "Where It Hurts." And J/C was the relationship. So here goes. It's been a while.





	Where It Hurts

The girl skips along ahead of them down the tree-lined path, her braid flying out behind her. She stoops to sniff at a purple flower and then looks back at them with a delighted smile. “Banana pudding!” she says. “This one smells like banana pudding!” 

They both smile in return and wave her on down the trail. 

They stroll along behind her, Captain and Commander, shoulder-to-shoulder on the narrow path. She veers slightly toward him to step around a large rock in the middle of the route; he brushes a hand down the middle of her back to steady her. When she looks up at him with a curious expression, he lets his hand drop, but she has seen the longing in his eyes, and the hunger. Her steps falter. For a breathless, agonizing split-second, she thinks he might lean down, look into her eyes and …

Ahead of them, the girl gives a sharp cry of pain. They step apart and then hurtle down the path to where the girl has tripped over a root jutting up from the hard-packed earth. She is clutching her bent knee in both hands and sniffling a little. 

The Commander bends and wipes a tear from her dirt-smudged face. “What happened, sweetie?”

“I tripped on the rock and skinned my knee. Oh, I wish my Mom was here!”

The Captain stoops beside the girl and gently pries her small hands away from her knee. They all examine a scrape in the girl’s otherwise unblemished skin. The Captain brushes dirt and twigs from the small injury. “It’s just a scrape, Naomi. Nothing to worry about.”

“It hurts,” the girl whines.

The Commander soothes her with a hand on her cheek. “I’m sure it does. But I know what will make it better.”

Naomi looks up at him with pleading eyes. “What?”

“What my mother always did for me when I had a scrape,” he says, and presses a soft kiss to the girl’s knee.

Naomi giggles through her tears. “That tickles.”

The Captain chuckles. “It’s his whiskers, Naomi. The Commander needs a shave.” She gives him a sidelong glance and then she kisses the place his lips have just touched. 

Beside her, the Commander closes his eyes for just an instant, and smiles.

“Better,” Naomi sighs.

“Think you can go on now, Naomi, or should we call ahead and tell the Ambassador to give away the Qh’onan Fudge Cake he promised you?”

The girl jumps up, her pain forgotten. “No! I want the fudge cake!”

Still kneeling in the dirt, the Captain watches her dart down the sun-dappled path. The Commander simply gazes at the Captain until she, too, rises and resumes her stroll in the girl’s wake. When she realizes the Commander is not beside her, she turns back to find him still kneeling in the path. Their eyes meet. She gasps when, holding her gaze, he slowly raises his fingertips to his lips.

She hesitates for an instant. Then, little by little, so that he cannot miss the significance of it, she raises her fingertips to her own lips. She closes her eyes.

The wind sighs in the trees, bringing with it the scents of alien flowers, sweet and heavy with perfume, and the cry of a distant bird calling for its mate.

When she opens her eyes again, a lifetime later, he is standing on the path just a meter away from her. He gives her a wistful smile. “We should go,” he murmurs. “Before she gets back to the gathering and Sam realizes we’re unfit babysitters.”

The Captain nods and smiles. She places a hand in the middle of his chest. “And before the Ambassador gives away your fudge cake.”

He laughs quietly. “I’ve been looking forward to that cake all day,” he says. 

“I know.” She gives his chest a pat and then turns and resumes her stroll. He falls into step beside her, his fingertips light on her back as they navigate the path ahead of them.  
###


End file.
